School Fortress 2
by A SpyDer
Summary: A short OOCish One-Shot, first written as school assignment. "What if 'TF2' was just a type of a school?" Long story short, a Team Fortress 2 parody. This is my first FanFic, so don't expect anything awesome, yet. Read&Review!


**Author's note: **Hello! My name's Gintaras. I'm 13 years old and I'm from Lithuania (Europe). This is my first public story – a short OOCish Team Fortress 2 one-shot. It's not the best I can do, but I think that with plenty of training, my skills will improve. I have plans for a bigger story, so any types of critique for this one-shot would be a great help to my further stories.

I'm terribly sorry for any grammar or spelling mistakes (If there are any)!

Remember, Rate&Review, or the SpyDer will eat you :3

"**Team RED (Form: 6****th**** M)"**

Another morning in the Fortress… I moped around, kicked the ground twice and sighed: I've been in this very Fortress for 6 years and counting, and every morning is always the same – same team-mates, same maps, same weapons, same EVERYTHING. Sure, some things change, like the smell of the battlefield or the point of the fight, but still, the point stays the same: "…make a better performance then the other team…". I sighed weakly, mostly out of boredom, and sat down on the ground, hoping to pass some time by burning matches. Just when I pulled out a box of them, a loud signal echoed through the field, making me and the other mercenaries to move their behinds into specified maps. For example, today, my first map on the list in cp_Egypt. _'…Mm, Egypt…'_ I thought to myself and smiled widely – cp_Egypt is one of my favourites, since it's dry and everybody knows that dry places are the best places to burn stuff…

Oh crap, I forgot to introduce myself – I'm the Reliable Excavation and Demolition's pyrotechnics expert (RED Pyro, for short). And I like burning stuff up, that's my job. So, I guess now you know enough about me…

Well, back to the story. Now, where was I, oh yes! We were walking into the area where Egypt was hosted (By saying WE, I mean me, my team-mates, AND our enemies). One by one, we entered the map, just to be greeted by the Announcer No. 317. I bet, now you're asking "Who's that 'Announcer' fellow?" Well, she's the one that controls this map, gives out orders, rates our performance and such.

I came in last and slowly dragged myself next to the rest of my team: the Scout, a nice girl at first, but piss he off and she'll beat you down BIG TIME; the Soldier, a noisy man, ready to shut you up with his trustworthy shovel (If you don't shut up when he's yelling); the Demoman, who's always drunk and likes to blow things up; the Heavy Weapons Specialist, a huge Russian with a heart of gold and big guns; the Engineer, a female as well, but don't you dare down-rate her for that – she's a professional at constructing stuff, like Sentries, Dispensers and Teleporters; the Medic, a 'good' German doctor and an even better comedian, also, Heavy's best friend; the Sniper, a quiet Australian, who could shoot you in the head if if was as simple as eating a piece of cake; and the Spy, a masked Frenchman who can't be trusted – he'll stab you in the back with his sharp knife if you'll give him a chance and he can turn invisible and even disguise himself as anyone he wishes ((Oh, look out, he's behind you! Nah, just kidding…)). We shared out "Hello's" and the Announcer spoke up:

"Today, you'll be making a poster about your team. It has to tell something about you and your work, or else it's an auto FAIL into your permanent records…" we shivered "…now, BEGIN!"

And that's when the 'fun' started: the Scout refused to help us and started drinking some kind of junk she calls Bonk!. The Soldier started to retell some old military-style stories and didn't give a damn about working with the poster. The Demoman mumbled out something close to this: "…I'm drunk and you don't 'ave a bloody excuse…". The Heavy was chatting with the Medic about weapons and such like two blonde girls about make-up. The Engineer tried to draw something on the poster, but quickly erased it, saying that "…it doesn't resemble our team…". The Sniper went to the rest-room and came back 30 minutes later, using the classic "…I got stuck…" excuse. And the Spy… Well, he was a Spy and went to spy the other teams for ideas. I shouted out "STOP!", thinking, that that would make them concentrate on our goal – the poster. Sadly, because of the gas-mask I always wear, no one else but me heard it but me. So, the situation didn't change and my team-mates continued to work for themselves, not the team itself. My head was starting to hurt, just when the Announcer #317 announced the end of the so called "mission". Instantly, me and the other people in team RED turned themselves towards the empty piece of paper which was supposed to be our poster.

"D'aw crap…" Said the Scout.

The Soldier muttered something under his nose, which was probably addressed to the Announcer.

The Demoman, well, he did nothing – his scrumpy had overcome him and he was snoring loudly.

"IT'S NOT POSSIBLE!" The Heavy shouted out.

The Engineer sighed "Boys, I'm done playing games with you…"

"Welcome to ze 'We loze once again' fest." A failed attempt to cheer the rest of us up escaped the Medic's mouth.

The Sniper mumbled out an 'F…' word.

"I did all I could!" The Spy explained. Somehow, that that was the first time I believed him – he is a SPY, after all. And he was SPYING all the time…

And I quickly pulled out a red waterproof marker and scribbled out a few words on the poster in capital letters:

"**TEAM RED**

**WHERE RED ISN'T JUST A COLOUR"**

And then, followed with a loud signal, the Announcer said:

"You fail!"


End file.
